34. Poppy
Poppy
“ W hat do you think is going on?” A not-so-hushed whisper carries from outside my open living room window.
“She would only send an SOS about the bakery or Hayden,” another voice answers. “Go in or wait for Stevie?”
“Wait, I’d say, she should be here any second.”
I could call out that I hear them from my spot on the couch, tell them to just come in.
But they want to present as a unified front, so who am I to hinder that?
Instead, I settle back in, lifting one of my daisy embroidered throw pillows and squeezing it against my chest. It’s not long before I hear the Jeep park, and then the three of them burst through the front door.
“Pop?”
“We brought wine.”
“Talk to us.”
They surround me, the four of us scrunched together on a couch made for three.
“What was that about wine?” I ask, looking between them.
“On it.” Ivy jumps up and heads for my kitchen to get a corkscrew and glasses. Returning triumphantly, she perches on the arm of the sofa beside me and hands the corkscrew to Wren.
“What happened?” Wren asks, yanking the cork from the bottle of red and giving a generous pour to the glass Ivy holds out. Passing it to me, they all wait for my hearty gulp before a response.
“The show is cancelled. Well, at least my episodes.”
Telling Hayden felt easier than this. Telling him was about admitting the depth of my feelings for him by admitting my actions. It was about us .
Telling anyone else, it simply feels like admitting failure. Because I have failed.
This was my shot at saving my bakery. There won’t be another influx of cash unless I beg, borrow, or steal it. And I have a feeling that borrowing it from Hayden won’t actually be a loan, but rather a handout. I take another gulp of wine as they stare at me in shock.
“Why?” Stevie asks gently.
“They didn’t want to simply mention Hayden’s last name, they wanted to shine a glaring spotlight on his pain. And the thing is,” I pause, looking at each of them, “he was willing to do it. For me.”
“He really cares about you,” Stevie says. “I think he’d do anything for you.”
“Was that always the case? How did I miss that all this time?” I finish my glass and sink back into the couch.
Of course, I refused to admit it before, but I knew our bickering was seriously charged.
Being around Hayden was always like being outside on a muggy summer night riddled with heat lightning.
It just took time for us to develop into anything that would catch fire.
“Probably. You said he gave you the building, right?” Ivy recalls.
“He did. He was always the one paying the price for me. And this time, it came at too high a cost for me to accept. I turned the show away.”
“I don’t understand how they can take a baking show and twist it into such an unrelated storyline. Then just cancel the baking part because you weren’t on board,” Stevie says with a shake of her head.
“Me either,” I sigh. I had scrutinized the contract; it was about as clear as mud. This wasn’t their first time in a situation like this, I assume.
“We’re so sorry,” they all offer in turn. And with Ivy’s arm wrapped around me, Wren pouring me a fresh glass, and Stevie holding my hand, I feel their support in my bones.
After a sip of her own wine, Wren says, “This is huge, though. I mean what does this mean about how much you care about Hayden ?”
She has a point. This bakery was my dream for years, it was everything. And I knowingly gave up the safety net that was going to keep it from going under. I gave it up for Hayden.
“I didn’t even hesitate,” I admit. “And yes, it was the right thing to do. Profiting off someone else’s pain is wrong. But it was more than that, I would have done anything to stop him from being hurt.”
“How serious are you two?”
“The first night we slept together?—”
“You what!”
“What night was the first night?”
I smile at their interjections and continue. “When I woke up, I didn’t think I could get used to this . Instead, what I thought was I’m already used to this .”
“I love it. You two are amazing at both supporting and challenging one another. It’s not just one or the other,” Stevie says with a squeeze of my hand.
“And we’re here to support you too,” Ivy adds. “I understand the feeling—thinking your store, your passion, is being taken from you.”
Ivy does understand, uniquely so after someone tried to destroy her business back in the fall. “Any advice?” I look up at her, tears welling in my eyes.
“Do what you do best, make a plan. And let us help you any way we can.”
Across the room, the stack of bills on the end table glares at me like a warning light in the fog.
It feels like the walls are closing in. I don’t have a plan, not really.
Before the show swooped in, I had been dragging myself along until the construction company would eventually decide to stop being patient with my tiny payments.
“What if you took Hayden up on one of his offers?”
My attention swivels to Wren. “I can’t accept a handout,” I tell her. “I know it’s coming from a good place, but I just can’t. Especially if I’m with him. It will become this thing wedged between us.”
“Taking a handout is different than accepting help,” Ivy points out. “It’s okay to need help.”
The idea of asking for help would have sent me into a spiral before. But I have been saying yes. I have been letting people, mainly Hayden, in on the hard moments. And the thing is, it hasn’t felt like a shortcut. It hasn’t felt weak.
It’s been just the opposite, I’ve been energized. I’ve been enjoying myself, doing this with him. But having him stand beside me on camera and accepting a nonrefundable mixer are both rather small compared to what I would be accepting if I allowed him to wipe away my renovation debts.
My phone chimes on the coffee table, and Stevie raises an eyebrow as the name flashes across the screen. “It’s like he knew you were talking about him.”
“What’s it say?”
She picks up my phone and does a quick scan of the text message. “He says he hopes you’re having a good girls’ night and promises he won’t force Tripp to crash this one with him.”
“I knew trivia night wasn’t a coincidence,” I mutter, a small smile catching the corner of my lips.
“And then it says, but baby , the air sea team got a call. He’s heading out now, but he promises this isn’t a bad one.”
“Why didn’t he lead with that?” I jolt up and reach for my phone as another text comes in. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back in,” I read aloud.
“It’s sunny out, and the surf report is saying swells are pretty normal today,” Ivy assures me, reading from her own phone.
“I think getting used to this is going to be the hardest part.” I pull the pillow tight against me once again.
“You don’t have to get used to it today.” They slide closer to me, my safety net of a different kind. And they stay with me, talking about Stevie considering taking on weddings at her floral shop, Wren starting a new project at the inn she manages, and Ivy’s upcoming book release party.
All the while, my heart beats with anticipation, my hand clings to the phone with my knuckles white. It seems silly to worry about letting him help me in times like this. The only thing worth worrying about is if he comes home safe.
I think about Hayden flashing me that smile and telling me he’s always ready. It’s the Coast Guard’s motto, but it goes beyond that. He’s always been ready to be there for me. And I want to be ready too.
I check my phone again, still nothing. But I already knew that. I haven’t let go of it for even a second. “How long should this be taking?” I wonder aloud.
“I think that depends on the situation.” Wren reaches over and squeezes my free hand.
“You don’t have to wait all night with me, you can go when you need.”
“Nope, we’re here until that phone goes off.” Stevie shakes her head.
A knock sounds at the door, causing all our heads to pivot in unison. I jump up and race to answer it, the sound of three other sets of footsteps echoing behind me. Why would someone come to my door before I hear from Hayden? That always means something bad in the movies.
My heart threatens to pound right through my chest as I reach the door and throw it open. Standing with the fading sunlight outlining him, a tall, tanned man with lazily brushed back hair and eyes the color of the sea smiles down at me like I’m the sight to behold.
“Hi, Poppy Seed,” Hayden rasps.
“Or we’re here until that happens,” Ivy whispers behind me, a smile in her voice.
He pulls me into his embrace and murmurs, “I promised I wouldn’t bring Tripp to crash girls’ night. I didn’t say anything about me doing it.”
“Why didn’t you text me that you were okay?” I chastise him with a smack at his shoulder. Then I sink against him despite the frustration in my tone.
“I rushed over here as soon as I could. I landed, changed, and needed to see you in person.”
“Good to see you’re okay, Hayden,” Stevie offers as the three of them try to slip by us in the doorway. When did they collect their things?
“We’ll talk later.” Wren winks at me.
“We left the wine,” Ivy adds with a smirk, closing the door behind them.
Sweeping me up in his arms, Hayden waits for me to wrap my legs around his waist before carrying me back to the living room.
It’s amazing he doesn’t bump into anything, considering my face is on his, blocking his view.
Laying me down on the couch, he leans on his elbows above me.
I pull him down and lose myself in him. All my worries drifting further away with each nip of his teeth and the delicate pass of his tongue that follows.
“I think we should make it a rule moving forward, I get to see you the minute you’re back from a call,” I suggest breathlessly.
He smiles against my lips. His voice gruff, he says, “Absolutely. I don’t think we’ve ever agreed on something this fast in our lives.”